


Crime and Punishment

by skivvysupreme



Series: The Cuffed Verse [9]
Category: Glee
Genre: Cheerio Blaine, M/M, Past Violence, Skank Kurt Hummel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt should be fine with not seeing Blaine’s smile for a day, or touching him, or hearing his voice, or watching his body move in that damn cheerleading uniform. Kurt IS fine. He doesn’t need Blaine. He doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crime and Punishment

**HUMMEL WTF**

**WHAT HAPPENED**

**UR BOY WONT SAY ANYTHING**

**TINAS TELLING US WAT SHE SAW**

**TINAS CRYING**

**????????????????**

**O SHIT SAM SAID U HULKED OUT :D**

**I HEARD YOU GOT SUSPENDED WHERE R U??**

**ANSWER ME ASSHOLE**

**_Excuse you, Puckerman?_ **

**Sorry kurt just wanna know what happened txt me or quinn back ok**

Kurt rolls his eyes at his phone and exhales the smoke from his last cigarette puff. He’s out on his back porch with an oversized mug of coffee, smoking and sipping in the Tuesday morning quiet. He’s not sure what suspension, as a punishment, is supposed to do; he has the house to himself and explicit instructions to not show up at his least favorite place on Earth. It’s more of a reward for getting in that fight than anything else.

Though, Kurt has to admit, the shitty part about this is that he really misses Blaine. Which is also the stupid part, because he hasn’t had time to miss Blaine, because he just saw Blaine last night. Kurt should be fine with not seeing Blaine’s smile for a day, or touching him, or hearing his voice, or watching his body move in that damn cheerleading uniform.

Kurt _is_ fine. He doesn’t need Blaine. He doesn't.

But… fuck, he _wants_ him, and doesn’t the difference between want and need always turn fuzzy when you want something bad enough?

Kurt’s phone buzzes with another text. He sighs and takes another puff from his cigarette, prepared for more of Puck’s nonsense, but—

**You not being here is weird :(**

**_We don’t share any classes or anything…_ **

**But I know you’re not here. I’m AWARE of it. It’s like I’m tuned to your radio station but all I’m getting is static because I'm too far away**

**If that makes sense. Hard to explain**

**Is that weird?**

**I’m being super intense sorry**

**…**

**Kurt?**

He sits there blushing with his phone pressed against his cheek, trying to get himself together before he responds. Kurt can’t just say things like that, not the way Blaine can. He can’t put this increasing want/need/thing into words. He can only protect it if he keeps it to himself, keeps it curled up tight in his heart, but Blaine’s not having it. Blaine is going to tear it out of Kurt if it’s the last thing he does.

Kurt feels like he’s lost his mind and like he’s never known anything more obvious at the same time. This rush of feeling, this gnawing pull towards Blaine, is both scary and comforting. They got here so fast and Blaine is _so much_ and he doesn’t even know it—

**_Are you still coming over after school?_ **

**Yes… unless I just freaked you out and I’m uninvited :(**

**_Quit with the sad faces_ **

**_Just hurry, ok?_ **

**:D**

**_< 3_ **

*****

Kurt’s used to watching the clock wind down to 3 o'clock on a weekday, but for entirely different reasons.

He’s cleaned the kitchen, taken out the trash, and smoked another cigarette. He has read the newest issues of _Vogue_ and _Nylon_. He has watched as much Netflix as he can stand.

It’s only 1:30 in the afternoon.

With Cheerios practice and travel time, Blaine won’t get to Kurt’s house until 5:30 or so.

Well, that won’t do.

Before he can put too much thought into it, Kurt picks up his phone and starts to text.

**_Meet me at your car in 30 minutes._ **

*****

“Kurt? What are you doing here? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Blaine is all wide-eyed concern from the start, hurrying towards Kurt’s truck where it’s parked next to Blaine’s Prius. “I was going to come over after school.”

“I know. I couldn’t wait.” Kurt hops out of the driver’s seat, only to open the door to the back and sit down so that he’s a bit below Blaine’s eye level. He reaches for Blaine’s hips and tugs him forward so that Blaine has to plant his hands at the top of the door frame to keep from falling into the car.

“Kurt?”

His heart’s thumping too fast in his chest and his mind has completely forgotten all the courageous, romantic words he imagined saying in this conversation on the way here. It should be easy, because even if Kurt can’t really explain what he feels, he still knows it’s there. And the simplicity of that knowledge, the truth of it—it should be enough, right? “What you said earlier—it’s not weird. Or, maybe it is weird, I have no idea, this is a lot and it’s really fast—“

Blaine shakes his head. “I know, we can slow down, I just really—“

“Shut up, please. Sorry, I just need to… I usually know what I’m doing, I plan things, but with you, it’s just… Fuck.”

“We can slow down.”

“I don’t want to. Look, whether it's weird or not... I get it, okay? I feel it, too." Kurt thinks he shouldn’t be so nervous admitting it, because, well, Blaine is his boyfriend and Blaine’s already stated how he feels. But as he looks up at him, and Blaine looks back, Kurt feels raw and exposed in a way that is entirely new to him.

Blaine looks down at him for a few seconds before he lifts his head, glances around the student parking lot, and crawls into the backseat of the car.

Kurt flops onto his back, his lap suddenly full of Blaine, and winces as one of the seatbelt buckles digs into a tender spot under his shoulder blade.

“Oh—sorry, did I—?”

“No, it’s from yesterday, it’s okay.” Kurt bends his legs so that Blaine can close the door and scoots up a little further on the seat.

Blaine gently pushes at Kurt’s shoulder—the bruised one, stained purple with the impact of the lockers—so that he’ll turn onto his side. It takes a minute, arranging their bodies on the seat, but soon Blaine’s straddling Kurt’s hip and pushing his slouchy gray sweater up so he can inspect Kurt’s back. The bruise is small and splotchy, already starting to fade and turn yellow in spots with how shallow it is. He pushes at Kurt’s shoulder again to get him to turn over a little more.

Kurt scrunches his face at the pressure on his arm but doesn’t say anything, not wanting to alarm Blaine any more than he already has.

It doesn’t work, and as soon as Blaine notices his reaction, he whines—fucking _whines_ , the distressed noise tugging at something deep in Kurt’s gut—and pulls on the loose neckline of Kurt’s sweater to get a better look.

“When you’re as fair as me, bruises always look worse than they feel,” Kurt shrugs, trying to defuse the worry and anger he sees darkening Blaine’s face.

“Always,” Blaine echoes. “Too many bruises for there to be an _always_.” He leans down and kisses Kurt’s shoulder, then pulls his sweater back up. “Switch?”

“I’m not going to break, Blaine, god…” Kurt rolls his eyes but does as he’s asked, and he and Blaine maneuver themselves in the car until Blaine’s lying on his back with Kurt straddling him. “Better?”

Blaine reaches up and pushes Kurt’s hair back from his forehead, the pink and brown strands popping out from between his fingers. He gets a loose hold on the hair and pulls Kurt down, placing his other hand around Kurt’s back as he holds him against his body.

Kurt sighs into Blaine’s mouth when he kisses him. _This_ is more like what he envisioned on the way here. No complicated words and overwhelming emotions. No inarticulate flailing. No thinking about douchebags who have the nerve to leave tracks where they’ve tried to stomp all over the two of them. Nothing but Blaine and the way he makes Kurt feel when he holds him like this, and his fingers digging into Kurt’s hair, and the way he reacts to the pressure of Kurt’s body on top of him.

When Kurt starts sucking on Blaine’s tongue, he pulls away with a groan and pants, “Maybe… I think we should cool off. I can’t come in these pants, Kurt.” He says the last part with a laugh, memories of last Friday night washing over both of them as Blaine shifts around between Kurt’s legs.

“Well, you don’t have to come _in_ them. We could take them off,” Kurt pouts, kissing Blaine even as he lifts his hips and moves both legs to one side of Blaine’s to remove the friction.

“Very funny. But I do have to go to class this afternoon.”

“I know, I know. I’ll head out soon so you can get back to being responsible, Mr. Junior Class President. Just wanted to see you.”

Blaine pulls Kurt back down for another kiss, because they can’t seem to stop, then reaches up and brushes a gentle thumb over the bruise on Kurt’s left cheek. “How long before this one is gone?”

“You really don’t like my battle scars, hmm?”

“I don’t like picturing someone hurting you. Every time I see this, that’s what happens.” A flash of anger flits across Blaine’s expression before it settles back into soft affection.

It’s quick, but Kurt catches it. “I felt the same way when those guys cornered me. They started taunting me with you and what happened on Friday and I saw it all over again. I look at you sometimes and it comes back.”

“But I don’t have bruises to remind you. And make you sad. Do I just look hurt all the time to you?” Blaine laughs.

Kurt doesn’t. “No, but just because you can’t see your scars doesn’t mean you don’t have them,” he says, tracing his fingers over the WMHS letters on Blaine’s chest.

Blaine goes quiet for a few minutes, his brows furrowing as his eyes rove over Kurt’s face. “Rule number one: always keep your hands up,” he murmurs, still outlining the shape of the bruise with his thumb.

“What?” Kurt’s not sure what he expected Blaine to say, but that wasn’t it. When Blaine doesn’t answer, Kurt squeezes his hip and asks, “Blaine?”

Blaine’s voice, when it finally returns, is soft and thoughtful.

“Can I teach you how to box?”

TBC


End file.
